


St. Patrick's Day

by gillyandersons



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 21:38:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10345092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillyandersons/pseuds/gillyandersons
Summary: Bernie and Jasmine end up in a drinking competition. Bernie can't handle her booze like she used to.





	

The night had started off like any other night, just a few quiet drinks after a rather long day at work. Serena had been glad to get the night off, knowing that the casualties would increase tonight given that it was St. Patrick's Day and there would be more alcohol induced injuries. 

 

That was until Jasmine declared that she could drink everyone under the table  _ and  _ down a pint of Guinness faster than anyone in the entire bar. And when the fuck did Bernie  _ not  _ rise to a challenge? 

 

Serena had told her not to, that both she and Jasmine were drunk, and this was a silly idea. But Bernie was stubborn and not one to back down from a challenge. Plus, she was  _ certain  _ she would win. 

 

“I've got thirty years on these kids!” she’d slurred, having already gone through a bottle of Shiraz that night. 

 

“ _ Exactly _ , dear” Serena had cocked her brow. “They are young, they can get up fine tomorrow.  _ You _ , however, were hungover for a  _ week  _ last time you went out with Dom”. 

 

But, Bernie being Bernie, hadn't listened to a word Serena had said. Instead she'd stood up rather abruptly from her seat and declared herself Jasmine's next challenger. 

 

“I’m not holding your hair back when you're sick, Bernie” Serena told her. 

 

Jasmine had just beaten Fletch by a mile, leaving the poor man with half a glass of Guinness left and no pride, when Bernie swaggered up to her. 

 

She'd won drinking competitions with men five times the size of Jasmine in the army, and that was on some rather strong home brewed Afghanistan vodka that she was pretty sure would take the hair off young Jasmine’s head. 

 

_ Piece of cake _ . Bernie thought to herself. 

 

The bartender put two pints down in front of them at the bar. 

 

“My money's on Bernie” Fletch whispered to Raf. 

 

“No way!” the other man laughed. “Jasmines’ got this in the bag!” 

 

“20 quid?” 

 

“Deal” Raf grinned, shaking Fletch’s hand. 

 

“3...2...1… GO!” Dom yelled, slamming his hand down on the bar. 

 

Serena couldn't watch, instead she put her head in her hand and wondered how the  _ fuck _ a “quiet drink in Albie’s” had turned into Bernie in a drinking game with Jasmine. 

 

Bernie chugged like her life depended on it. It had been a few years since she had done anything like this, and she was a bit rusty. And she wasn't as good at this as she used to be because she felt sick. But there was no way she was going to let Jasmine win or prove Serena right. She was going to neck this whole damn pint because she could and because she wasn't a quitter. 

 

Mixing Shiraz and Guinness was one of her worst decisions to date, and she'd made some pretty bad decisions in her life. 

 

But she pushed through. She closed her eyes and chugged till there was nothing left. 

 

She grinned as she slammed the empty glass down on the bar, noticing Jasmine was still chugging. 

 

“YES!” Dom whooped, grabbing Bernie's wrist and yanking her arm up in the air in victory. “We have a new winner! Major Bernie Wolfe, ladies and gents!”. 

 

Raf pouted and fished out a £20 note to hand to Fletch. 

 

“Yes, Bernie, you ledge!” Fletch grinned, throwing his arm around her as they all jumped about happily. 

 

Serena looked up just as Bernie finished and felt an odd sense of pride. That was her girlfriend. The 52 year old who could out-chug a 24 year old. She watched as Bernie threw her arms up and wooooed in victory. Bernie, Fletch and Dom all had their arms around each other and were dancing. Serena couldn't help but roll her eyes.  _ That  _ was her girlfriend. Her renound, big macho army medic girlfriend - the woman who was well respected within her field and had the respect of everyone she commanded in the hospital. Yes,  _that_ woman was currently wiping a foam beard off her top lip because she beat a junior doctor at a drinking game. 

 

Oh God, this was a weird night. 

 

With his winnings, Fletch had bought everyone a round of drinks. And by round of drinks he had brought a tray of Jägerbombs to the table. 

 

“Courtesy of Raf” he grinned, placing the tray down in front of their group. 

 

Serena had given up telling Bernie  _ not  _ to do things at this point, because it only fell on deaf ears anyway. She groaned as she watched the blonde reach out and grab a shot, knock it back and reach out for another one. She knew she should probably stop Bernie, but she was like a bloody woman on a mission. 

 

And besides, Serena reasoned with herself, she was having fun. She just hoped that it would be worth it in the morning when Bernie inevitably felt like death. 

 

It was kind of nice to watch Bernie let her hair down, even if she was currently dancing with Dom, Jasmine and Ollie in the middle of Albie’s. Where there was no dance floor and they were louder than the music playing. 

 

Bernie stopped mid dance and drunkenly made her way over to the table. She ungracefully plopped herself down in the chair next to Serena, half landing on the other woman as she did. 

 

“Don't feel good” Bernie groaned, her head lulled against her shoulder, her messy blonde waves falling and covering her face. 

 

“Well, I  _ did  _ warn you” Serena cocks her brow and uses the same tone she used to use on Elinor when she was little. 

 

“Don't be mean to me” Bernie mumbles, sliding down so she's now lying across two chairs, her head resting in Serena's lap. 

 

Serena ran her fingers through Bernie's hair, combing the wild mess out of her face. 

 

“‘m gonna be sick” Bernie groaned, her words muffled against Serena's thigh. The blonde filled herself before she bolted off Serena's lap and into the direction of the ladies. 

 

Serena, deciding to leave the  _ I Told You So  _ lecture till the morning followed. She could hear Bernie being sick before she even got to the bathroom. 

 

“Bern?” she asked tentatively from outside the stall. 

 

“Go ‘way” Bernie groaned before heaving again. 

 

Serena, unable to cope with the thought of Bernie feeling sick, pushed the stall door open. Bernie was collapsed on the floor, her arm wrapped around the bowl and her hair covering her face. 

 

“Oh, Bern” Serena sighed, stepping into the stall with Bernie. She reached across and pulled Bernie's messy hair out of her face, trying not to think about the matted strands that were covered in Bernie's vomit. 

 

“‘m gonna die” Bernie groaned as Serena rubbed soothing circles into Bernie's back. 

 

“No you're not, you're just going to wish you were” Serena replied. “Especially tomorrow when you're on the 7:30am shift”. At this Bernie groaned once more. 

 

Serena was going to have to cover probably, and let Bernie take her 11am shift. She probably  _ shouldn't, _ as punishment, but she figured Bernie’s hangover would be punishment enough. 

 

“I told you that you wouldn't be able to out-drink Jasmine and Dom”. 

 

“I still won the chugging competition” Bernie grinned proudly. 

 

Serena rolls her eyes so far she's surprised they haven't gone all the way back. 

 

“Yeah but at what cost? Honestly, Bern, what part of  _ this  _ is winning?!”. 

 

“Pride” Bernie huffs, leaning back and flushing the toilet. 

 

Serena wants to laugh. She looks down at Bernie, who is slumped between the stall wall and the toilet, her head hanging to one side, vomit dribbled down her chin, unable to even stand on her own. 

 

Serena bites back a sarcastic retort and instead leans down and wraps one of Bernie's arms around her neck and helps her stand. 

 

“Love you” Bernie says as Serena practically drags her back to their table. 

 

“I love you too” she says, trying not to vomit herself as Bernie breathes all over her. “Now stay here whilst I get you a glass of water”. 

 

Bernie does a lazy two finger salute, that ends with her knocking over an empty glass because her hand eye coordination is currently non existent. Thankfully it doesn't break. When Serena gets back to the table, pint of water in hand, Bernie's already fallen asleep, her head resting on Hanssen’s shoulder. 

 

Serena panics slightly at the sight but Hanssen just looks at her, no emotion in his face. 

 

“I'm going to assume you might need help getting Ms. Wolfe home?” he deadpans as Bernie snores softly against his shoulder.

 

“Er, yes, actually” Serena nods. Especially now she's fallen asleep. 

 

“Righty ho” Hanssen says and Serena wonders how she's going to explain to Bernie in the morning that Hanssen ended up taking her home and carried her to bed all because she passed out at Albie's.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS SO DUMB I KNOW DON'T HATE ME I'M SORRY


End file.
